


ive been drowning in this restless mind

by homobirb



Category: Persona 5
Genre: Anxiety, Depression, Eating Disorders, Suicide, major trigger warnings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-15
Updated: 2018-11-15
Packaged: 2019-08-24 05:54:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,252
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16634207
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/homobirb/pseuds/homobirb
Summary: “Are you okay?” someone asks.“No,” he croaks out, coughing to clear his throat. The word, the innocence, the sheerhonesty—it was like swallowing a match. The lit stick drops into his empty stomach and quickly catches fire, burning up the cobwebs and dry shrubbery that fills his digestive system. All at once, Goro is decidedlynot okay, and he's not exactly happy with the revelation, nor with the situation at hand.// major trigger warnings for: eating disorders, suicide //





	ive been drowning in this restless mind

**Author's Note:**

> *cracks knuckles* reddit recently banned a bunch of the support groups for people with eating disorders who are not ready to recover and i am very upset and not coping well because one of my fundamental support groups was just forcibly ripped from me (and several hundred thousand other users). i wrote this to avoid ruining my 8 month SH clean streak.
> 
>  
> 
> [title taken from aawake by half alive](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=HGy9wdgCWEk)

Goro Akechi is _fucked._

 

His vision swims, his head way too heavy, and his entire body nearly drooping over, urging him to lay in an unbridled heap on the floor. Sweat drips down his back, cold against his skin. He isn't even feeling warm—there’s an ache in his joints, as if his body might decide to start shivering against the frozen fire within his heart at any moment.

 

“Are you okay?” someone asks.

 

“No,” he croaks out, coughing to clear his throat. The word, the innocence, the sheer _honesty—_ it was like swallowing a match. The lit stick drops into his empty stomach and quickly catches fire, burning up the cobwebs and dry shrubbery that fills his digestive system. All at once, Goro is decidedly _not okay_ , and he's not exactly happy with the revelation, nor with the situation at hand.

 

The someone's hand comes to rest on his left shoulder. He almost leans into the touch before restraining himself, fingers digging into the shiny wood of the bar countertop.

 

Goro takes a moment to swallow his anxiety back, flames inside of him flickering up his esophagus. The swallowed spit does nothing to soothe his nerves on fire, but it helps to steel himself anyway before turning and meeting concern in gray eyes.

 

Akira is _absolutely gorgeous_ and really has no right to be looking at him like he was a wounded animal. He wasn't going to snap (he thinks, jaw clenched) and his claws against the tabletop were only a danger to his own body, contortionist tree limbs, a fat person desperately trying to exist as slim as humanly (and inhumanly) possible. Goro swallows down razor blade words, swallows down the _truth_ that threatens to spill from his venomous lips, shutting down his mind with layers of barbed wire.

 

“Just a tad out of sorts; I’m afraid I didn’t sleep well last night and it’s catching up to me. I ought to return home.”

 

The boy quirks a brow at him. “Why don’t you stay the night? Or at least until you’re feeling better.”

 

He spends the evening getting wrapped with care. Akira watches him swallow down several meager bites of curry and rice, but doesn’t comment at how Goro leaves the majority of it on the plate. The thief wraps up his leftovers in cellophane wrap to store in the fridge with whispers of (false) promises that it’s okay to eat more and how he is more than welcome to come down and eat the food at any point during the night.

 

The clothes Akira gives him are loose upon his frame. The shirt picks up a habit of sliding down his shoulder and he has to tie the waistband of the sweatpants super tight so they don’t slip down his hips. Akira’s brow furrows at the sight of Goro, with his lanky arms flush against his body and bony fingers fiddling with the hem of the (arguably oversized) black shirt. Even though the tag had said small, Goro was sure it was pure vanity sizing and actually a size extra-large. But then he sees Akira, sees how his shirt fits him just right, a shirt that looks just like the one Goro has on. His mind nearly spins out of control, crash landing between the observations that objectively _Akira is not large_ and _the shirt Goro’s wearing is way too large for his body._

 

Akira insists that they share the bed, and so here he lies, trapped against the wall with a boy snoring softly behind him. A war rages in his mind. His body flashes hot and cold, his hands clammy and nearly dripping with sweat. Why is the teen he plans to murder in cold blood giving him such comforts, such care? He doesn’t need this. Goro’s heart beats loud in his ears. His chest is tied tight with strings of bad self-esteem, faded scars bubbling up to the surface. It _burns._ He’s tied at the stake, roasting alive by the public’s perceptions and his own father’s expectations.

 

It’s too much.

 

He climbs out of bed, gingerly crawling down to the foot of the bed. Goro’s careful not to disturb the cat—the _cat that he forgot about—_ and, thankfully, the animal doesn’t stir.

 

Akira’s snores are no longer audible by the time he grabs his briefcase and slips on his shoes. He hopes the boy is still asleep, knows he’s not when the bed creaks after he starts walking down the staircase. There’s no way he can re-lock the front door from outside, at least without a key he doesn’t possess. So he sends a silent prayer that no one will try to enter during the night.

 

Goro doesn’t look back, he doesn’t want the possibility of seeing Akira watching him go.

 

He lets go of the rope that tethered him to sanity, the mad desire for revenge that kept him alive all these years, the hope of retribution that burned in his chest smothered. It’s startling how _empty_ he feels. Like there’s just a heart trapped within the cage of his ribs, fluttering with wisps of life, stocky limbs just small branches that keep the cage functional.

 

It’s despicable.

 

Thorns push into his skin. They wrap around his body and lather him with the stinging of cuts every time he moves. His heart palpitates. He gulps down the acidic tears rising up his neck.

 

Typing a confession into the phone is easier than he expects. He addresses it to Akira, only _Akira,_ ignoring the questioning texts coming from his father. It’s too late to back out; he’s already committed to this, feet taking him to the nearest, tallest building he can access. It’s one of his father’s acquaintances’ company building. The lock is the same as always, security system disabled within a matter of seconds. He doesn’t, _shouldn’t_ care, but the cameras in the elevators feel like too much of a risk, so he takes the stairs up all the floors.

 

By the time he reaches the roof, it’s unclear whether his heart racing is a result of running up some twenty odd floors or excitement. Goro sucks in a deep _aching_ breath and pulls out his phone.

 

**Akechi, 2:36am: I must apologize for my earlier behavior. It seems the Phantom Thieves have won this round. Sae Niijima was only given as a target to entrap you, ending with your death in custody. Her palace was born out of pressure from the various webs I’m tied in. At the center sits Masayoshi Shido, in control of everything. I acted as his assassin for many years, utilizing the Metaverse in order to cause both mental shutdowns and psychotic breaks. Take him down for me.**

 

**Akira, 2:38am: wait why**

**Akira, 2:39am: what are you doing**

 

He steps on the ledge.

 

**Akechi, 2:41am: Goodbye.**

 

**Akira, 2:41am: what**

**Akira, 2:42am: no**

**Akira, 2:42am: lets take him down together**

**Akira, 2:43am: goro where are you. ill come get you**

**Akira, 2:45am: goro please**

**Akira, 2:46am: you dont have to do this**

**Akira, 2:47am: i s2g you dont need to do anythng**

**Akira, 2:48am: futabas tracikng u rn**

**Akira, 2:49am: please jsut wait**

**Akira, 2:50am: goro**

 

He holds down the power button until the phone shuts off and tosses it behind him. The crunch of glass against the ground strikes a sick sort of satisfaction in his bones.

 

Closing his eyes, he steps off the ledge.

**Author's Note:**

> [my tumblr](https://itshomobirb.tumblr.com/) and [my twitter](https://twitter.com/homobirb)


End file.
